


The Last Train Home

by KaedeRavensdale



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Ghost Train, I'd actually call it more of a feels pasta, Implied Death, M/M, Mikasa regrets getting stuck in an office job, This is based off one of my all time favorite creepy pastas, reference to suicide, shitty job, you should read or listen to the original
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:53:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8169085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaedeRavensdale/pseuds/KaedeRavensdale
Summary: After a particularly grueling week at her office job and a long night Mikasa is relieved to finally catch a break when she gets to the station passed shut-down only to find a train still running. What she didn’t realize when boarding was that this train truly was the last train home.





	

It had been one of those days. One of those weeks. Oh, who was she kidding it was _always_ one of those weeks. What had she been thinking, getting a job at the head office of the Mitras Corporation? The hours were ridiculous; in early to avoid the crowd, out long after dark fall. Hours and days stopped having meaning and caffeine had ruined her relationship with sleep. Her boss, an over loud miserable balding fuck who wouldn’t even bother signing off on the late night taxi claims, had kept her later than usual last night in order to remind her-once again-how important their current pointless project for some faceless stuffed shirt on the other side of the country was to his reputation.

                Like she could give less of a shit about his reputation.

                _Why? Why did I ever think that this was a good idea?_ Bemoaning her choices of years before, Mikasa stuffed her laptop into her bag and swept up a few stray papers. _I’m going to miss the train._

                She hit the ground running, barely noticing it when the warm artificially circulated air of her office building gave way to the winter cold. The station was empty and dark by the time she got there, her footsteps echoing around her. The cold settled deeper into her skin, not only due to the fact that the heating had apparently gone out but because there was something so very off about standing alone in the middle of a massive space meant for crowds.

                She felt as if she shouldn’t be there.

                _Empty._ She’d been afraid of this. Had suspected it. But she still glared up at the large clock as if it had betrayed them. _Great. I just missed the last train; the taxi ride home is going to cost an arm and a-._

                With a rather startling shriek of metal on metal another subway, its grey skin mottled with swirling colors of spray paint like tribal tattoos, another train pulled up.

 _Past midnight…odd._ All of the hairs on the back of her neck had risen at the sight of the locomotive, but she’d never been religious nor put any stock in superstition and not one to look a gift horse in the mouth she stepped through the doors of the fortuitous train. Sitting down between a man in a black trench coat and a youth not much older than she was with messy brown hair.

                _So cold. Is the heating here broken too?_ With the streak of rotten luck she’d had this could well have been the train to the depths of hell. Not that she believed in hell. Grumbling softly under her breath she nestled down further into her coat and repositioning her bag in her lap. Hiding her face beneath her bangs Mikasa covertly observed the other passengers around her as they whispered quietly amongst themselves. A pair of men in army fatigues-one with a horse-like face and two toned hair and the other a raven with an astounding number of freckles-a group of three quite obviously drunk high school students-a muscular blonde man, a raven of shocking height and a blonde woman with eyes blue as ice-and a pair of girls in school uniforms were some of the most notable amongst them. _Everyone here seems so…out of place. With how late it is…_

                One of the girls in the school uniforms, the smaller of the two, was staring at her with wide blue eyes. Shock and surprise evident in her features, only to swiftly transform into something else. Something unidentifiable and dark that chilled her to the bone. The little blonde immediately scrambled across the car to the tall raven-he had to practically fold himself in half in order to lower his ear close enough to hear her-and she spoke quickly. She saw her jaw work but couldn’t hear the words from where she sat, but moments later the raven too was staring at her with that same look. An odd twist of his somewhat handsome face. Something primal. Something dark. …

                Hungry.

                _Four stops. Only four stops. And with any luck some of these people will get off at the next station that should be coming up any minute now._ Almost as soon as this thought came to mind the next station up from the one she’d embarked from whizzed past. The train didn’t stop. _…What…is going on. This line doesn’t run any express trains._

                The whispering in the train car turned suddenly harsh as word of her spread through the ranks of its occupants. More and more eyes turning on to her with that same almost devilish look of hunger. Shrinking down as far into her seat as she could go, curling around her bag as if it were some talisman against evil. Beginning to tremble as the intensity of the gazes of naked need intensified.

                “Don’t mind them. They’re just jealous of you.” The calm voice issued from just off to her left and Mikasa flinched slightly. “Don’t stare back and don’t talk to them.”

                She turned to look at her companion. “Jealous of me? What could they possibly have to be jealous of? All  I wanted to do was catch the last train home.”

                “Last train home? Yes. It’s the last train home for all of us too.” He smiled at her. The brunet with the messy hair looked to one have been tanned near to gold, but his skin now held an unhealthy palor. His eyes were a soft green and looked down at her with a kind sadness. “But not all of them want to be here and seeing you, knowing that at the end of this you’ll be going home, it makes them unhappy.”

                “Where did they all come from? Was there some sort of…convention? Or meeting somewhere?” She went to cast her gaze about at the train car’s other inhabitants once again but was stopped halfway by his strong fingers against her cheek. His touch was cold as the grave. Gently, he turned her head back around to face him.

                “Everywhere. All around. But none of us want to be here...well, except for me maybe.” It was then that her eyes traveled down to his arms, gaze landing on the bloodless gaping slashes running the length of his arms from wrist to elbow. Another soft smile. “My fiancé was supposed to return home from deployment today. Instead…I received a letter of condolence.” He paused, green eyes becoming somewhat pensive as teeth worried at his bottom lip. “You’re not meant to be here, you know. You took the wrong train; this isn’t your ride. It will be, one day, but not tonight.”

                Another station flew by outside the window. Mikasa glanced quickly at the bored mapping the rail route with all the little lights. _Two stops left._

                The whispering in the cabin had grown even louder, almost to the point where she could make out what was being said now. She had the distinct unpleasant feeling that they were all talking about her. The air in the train car suddenly became heavy. It was getting to be difficult to breathe. Her chest aching every time she tried.

                The young man beside her sensed her discomfort. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help.” He said quietly. “Just hold on a little longer. It will all stop once we get to the end of the line. Won’t be too much longer now.” A brilliant light sparked in his eyes at the thought and he clambered up in his seat to look out the large window, knees on the hard plastic of the bench and hands pressed against the frigid glass. Even with his face pressed against it there wasn’t a trace of fog in the window, as if he weren’t breathing at all. “Here, why don’t you take this. I won’t need it where I’m going and you look like you’re getting cold.” Reaching up around his neck he swiftly unwound a crimson scarf. “It was the last thing he gave to me before…but you need it more than I do.”

                Even if he was terrible at wrapping scarves-most of it winding up around her face instead of her neck-Mikasa still found herself greatful. The red cotton was soft and warm and smelled faintly of mourning flowers. It helped take her attention away from the attentions of the glaring crowd.

                The train shuddered underneath them as the brakes shrieked.

                “Ah! We’re here!” He was quivering with excitement as the train slowed, fully animated for the first time she’d seen him. Mikasa looked up at the route board overhead only to find all the lights had gone out.

                _…Where are we?_

                “Listen to me, please.” His tone was serious now as he got to his feet. “This stop is for the rest of us. You can’t join us yet; you have to stay here. It isn’t your time.” Grasping one of the poles for support with one hand, he picked hers up with the other and delivered a quick and almost playful kiss to the back of it. His cold lips burned like ice. The whispering now transforming into shouts as everyone surrounding her pointed and chattered excitedly as the platform neared.

                What a sight it was.

                With how often Mikasa had taken the train-upwards of thousands of times-she knew every station by heart. Could have closed her eyes and named every one of them in order without a second thought as well as the time between them if she’d wished. But she found herself completely lost.

                There was nothing distinguishing on the platform that helped in any way to determine where they were. No signs. No directions. No posters. Hell, there weren’t even walls. But what the platform did have, and have in excess, was people. A milling sea of heads and faces all staring expectantly up at the arriving train as they eagerly awaited its arrival. When the doors opened the roar of the crowd poured in like water from a broken dam; shouts shrieks and yells.

                And tears.

                The other passengers had forgotten her now, and burst free of the train without delay. Throwing themselves into the waiting sea of people. Looking out through the window Mikasa saw one of the army boys embracing an older gentlemen in old fashioned fatigues; the resemblance between the two of them was obvious. When he stepped back to introduce his father to his compatriot the man hugged him just as fiercely as he had his own son. The trio of still mildly drunken teenagers shouted and leapt through the crowd in search of a new adventure for the night. The old man in the black trench coat that had been sitting by her had found an elegant looking lady in her thirties whose shoes and dress were both out of place for the biting chill of winter.

                Or had she mistaken the old man for someone else? When she looked again she saw a young couple, talking and laughing in the prime of their lives. No, it was the same coat and the same features. Lined with a jealous greed only seconds ago were now lit with a fierce joy.

                Just as the train doors hissed shut she saw the young man that had sat next to her on the train. He was in tears with his arms thrown around the shoulders of a shorter raven who looked equal parts bewildered relieved and sad as he wrapped his arms around his waist. The silver rings glinting on their fingers. He waved at her, green eyes still awash, as the train pulled out of the station.

                She waved back. Her legs shook so badly that it was difficult to get off the train when it finally did reach her stop.

                The platform was reassuringly deserted, and as she stood there and watched the train shrieked away into the distant darkness of the tunnels. Gingerly she touched the spot on her hand where the brunet had kissed her and her fingers came away wet; she didn’t remember the tears falling.

                A strand of red drifted passed her gaze and onto the floor. The scarf. Confused, Mikasa unwound it from her neck only to have the fabric unwind in her hands and fall away into a streak of dark red against the dull concrete.

                She stared at it for what felt like hours before she began the long trek home.


End file.
